


Your Dying Wish

by cheezewhizz



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Desolation Row, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angst, Blood, Crimes & Criminals, Death, Friendship, Organized Crime, Pain, Rating May Change, Romantic Friendship, Tags May Change, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24992269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheezewhizz/pseuds/cheezewhizz
Summary: ‘Now, it can be any of us. Even you….’ Gerard trailed off, not able to believe his own words.Nervously shifting his gaze from the floor, he now looked right in the eye of the betrayer.Frank Iero.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Kudos: 2





	1. ⫸one

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Since I have now gained enough courage to post— here’s my first fic. I really hope you enjoy it <3

Ray looked up this time. The cold metal pressed down harder on his temple. He blankly stared at the dark figure looming over him.

‘Tell us where it is, Toro’ the voice hissed. ‘Tell us!’

‘I….. don’t know—‘

‘You don’t want your poor friends to spend the rest of their time scrubbing your brains off the walls, do you?’ The figure glared.

Ray nervously glanced down to the floor, beads of sweat now forming on his forehead. His hair slightly covered his face—which held fright. For his life. Still, he knew he had to brave through this.

‘I _really_ don’t know. You have the wrong man.’

The intruder pressed down again. ‘That’s for me to decide.’

Suddenly the gun was removed. Ray sat up, letting out a small sigh. _Maybe if he could get to the phone just in time—_

A loud boom tore through the peaceful silence of the night as a hot searing pain jolted through his body, making him fall back. Ray cried out in agony. ‘For the love of God!’

The figure smirked slightly. ‘God? This is a godless town, Toro. We’re all here, turned away for our sins.’

Ray fought to keep his senses but the darkness—it was too quick and closing in. Blood stained the otherwise perfectly white marble floor. He saw the figure inching closer to him now.

‘A parting gift…..you’ll love it.’ The intruder proceeded to take out a small packet and stuffed it into Ray’s back pocket. Slowly and slightly he started nodding off, not able to fight any more now. _At least they didn’t find out._

The figure was still there, hovering over him. This time, something caught his eye. A blade.

He shrieked out loud. But it was too late.

***

Frank woke up slowly.

He heard a distant ringing as he looked around and rubbed his eyes. It was too dark in his room—he fumbled for the switch to his bedside lamp and turned it on. The feeble light barely aided his vision. He turned towards the clock and squinted.

_2:07 am._

_What? What happened now?_ The ringing continued. It was his front door.

Groaning slightly, he got up and trudged towards the door, not bothering to turn on any lights on the way. Who could be visiting him now?

Whoever it was, now had given up on the doorbell and had started knocking fiercely. Frank scowled. _Rude_ , he thought. He swung open the front door.

‘Really, at this time o— _you?’_

***

About two miles away, the tall and lean form of Mikey Way limped down the vacant streets at ungodly hours of the night. His face was streaked with tears and dry blood stained his coat. With tired red eyes, he scanned the neighborhood. Everything still and silent. The streetlights flickered.

_Oh God I beg for mercy._

He was tired, too tired to carry on anymore really. The day had been too much— he had seen too much. His right leg throbbed with pain. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let out a small whimper. All he wanted was some sleep.

Tonight, Mikey thought he had really paid for every sin. Never had he realized that he would see a day as painfully traumatic. And it was still not over. Every moment played like a broken record in his mind over and over again as he carried on dragging himself down the street. He needed to get to someone _. Any one._ Small tears had started pooling in his eyes again as he thought about everything. _A moment early, and maybe he could’ve done something. Could’ve been useful for once._

For a second, he thought everything was spinning. _Is that…..is that someone there? Near the street sign?_ His vision was blurring now, his knees gave way. He heard voices. Distant shouting—someone was shaking him now. _What were they even saying?_

Soon enough, Mikey had given in to the darkness.

***

‘Yes, it’s me.’

To say Frank was surprised to see who his midnight visitor was would be an understatement. This individual who stood before him— with messy black hair sticking up at all directions and clad in a dark leather jacket which had evidently seen better days, was a man of odd punctuality and to see him out and about at this hour of the night clearly confused Frank. But instead of interrogating him further, he moved aside from the doorway.

‘Come in, Gerard.’ 

Gerard quietly shuffled in and after carefully scanning the streets outside, he quickly closed the door shut. Frank switched on all lights as Gerard awkwardly stood at the middle of the living room.

‘Listen…..I’m here to talk.’ Gerard said, his voice low as if it held a certain secrecy.

‘I figured.’ Frank nodded slightly ‘What’s wrong?’

‘We’ve been compromised.’ Frank’s face hardened.

‘And your source of information?’

Gerard kept silent for a moment. ‘The warehouse down south.’ He spoke up. ‘Vandalized and looted. I don’t know who anymore.’ 

‘The one near the bay last month—‘

‘Yes.’ Gerard finally crashed onto the couch, his eyes shut in deep thought. Frank let out a heavy breath. Dealing with rats in the business was nothing new but this time, something else seemed direly wrong. And of course, Gerard sensed that too, or else he wouldn’t drag himself to Frank’s place at two in the morning. That man liked to get his night’s sleep.

Suddenly, the unexpected ring of Gerard’s phone interrupted the silence which had ensued. Frowning, Gerard got up and excused himself to the kitchen. Frank decided to silently continue pondering.

_But who could it be? After so many—_

The thunderous sound of pots and pans crashing down on the floor followed by a string of profanities tore through the peace of Frank’s home. Gerard exited the kitchen, clutching his phone in one hand, his face flushed as panic showed itself on it. His eyes were wide and his mouth fell agape. Frank shot him a questioning look, unsure of what just happened.

But Gerard could only utter one word.

_‘Mikey.’_

_***_

It was just another normal night for Shane Garner as his hefty form moved along the streets in the middle of the night, swinging his bat and merrily whistling. The pork chop at dinner had really set him in a good mood. His newly polished night guard’s badge shone under the feeble glow of the street lights. Now and then, he stopped and looked up and down the street.

_No use looking anyway._

Garner’s job may have been that of a guard but in actuality he did something totally otherwise. Which was—walk down the street and avoid everything questionable. _That’s what you are to do in a lawless world—ignore._

A slight wind blew with little drizzle. Garner rubbed his hands. But soon, the night guard started slowing down. Something—no it was someone stumbling at the far distance. It was too dark, so he decided to continue his stroll.

_Probably one of those gangs out and about._

But this staggering figure drew closer still. Squinting his eyes, Garner tried to get a better look. Under the glow of one of the flickering streetlights, he caught a glimpse. It was a man—tall, lean and clad in an oversized tan coat. _But…what was that on it? Blood?_ His entire form was shaking as he limped slowly down the way. More blood soaked through his jeans. Before Garner could come to any conclusion, the man swiftly fell on his knees in the middle of the street.

‘ _Sir!_ Are you alright?’ Garner picked up his pace and hurried towards this mystery man, still asking if he was alright. ‘Can you hear me? _Sir!”_

Without a response, the man fell, now entirely unconscious. Garner got hold of his shoulders and with a firm grip, started shaking him vigorously in hopes of restoring consciousness. Still, to no avail.

He closely inspected this unconscious man, his face was littered with scars and was streaked with dry tears. _Strange._ Then something else caught his eye—a small tag at the back of the bloodstained coat

**_WAY’s_ **

****

_Way? Oh my._

Garner proceeded to make a phone call. 

***

41 Princerow Hall was an opulent place for the town’s finest— it’s interior a forbearing riot of marble and glass paintings. But tonight the hall was adorned with something else. _Oh how they would love it!_

The intruder had managed to silently slip out one of the large casement windows facing the back alley. Shoving her hands in one of the large pockets of her jacket, she started moving away from Princerow briskly. Her dark eyes full of anticipation as her heart raced. As she approached the main street, her victim’s final moments echoed in her mind. No, she wasn’t shaken by the deed, infact this was her job. But something seemed odd about this, Toro clearly figured _something._ Something that his gang was still unaware of.

Still, she smirked. The job was done well and that was all she could care of. _Anyway, it was the prize that mattered._ She had always been after the prize of the work— after all a sense of hedonistic pleasure had always been alive in her. She quickened her pace now as the familiar feeling of anticipation returned. She preferred a different sort of gratification— no, not money or fame. Or even bodily pleasure, though her body was something she was unapologetically prideful in, after years of waging literal war for it. No, what she lived off was _approval._ She thirsted for acceptance. 

Soon enough, she arrived at the nondescript door and after fumbling with the spare key for a moment, she got in. The house was vacant, all lights turned off.

 _So, he knows._

With a sigh, she crashed onto the couch. Slowly, she closed her eyes for the night. 


	2. ⫸two

Ten minutes have passed since Gerard had hauled him out of his home at the middle of the night and now Frank, slightly incredulous of the situation, found himself getting off his motorbike in the middle of the streets— somewhat two miles away from his home. Gerard was ahead of him, already speed walking to the spot. Frank followed close.

Then, under the streetlights, he saw them. Crouching in the middle of the street was the familiar form of the night guard but in front of him lay the limp figure of the younger Way brother.

‘You didn’t even get _some help?_ ’ Gerard angrily spat out as he picked up his brother. Now noticing the amount of blood that had stained all his clothing, he let out a gasp.

‘Oh Lord…..’ he started muttering. ‘ _Oh Lord…._ what the fuck did you do.’ Slowly, his gaze shifted to the wound on Mikey’s right calf. Frank crouched down.

‘Bullet wound. I think it grazed him.’ He said conclusively.

‘Let’s take him home.’

***

Mikey slowly opened his eyes.

_Aah, where….where am I?_

He could hear voices— hushed conversations. Now fully awake, he began scanning the room from his spot.

 _My spot…… oh wait, I am lying….on a couch?_ A familiar Morrissey poster on the opposite wall caught his eye. _So, I’m at Gerard’s?_ Before he could process anything else, his brother barged into the room, fuming over something. Frank followed close.

‘ _All idiots!_ They had _one job—don’t fuck up._ And of course, they go and fuck up.’ Gerard rambled. His face was red with fury. _‘I swear on my life Frank, they will all see their lasts tomorrow—'_

‘Wh- what happened?’ Mikey slowly croaked out, now realizing how extremely parched his throat felt. Gerard wheeled around, his eyes as wide as saucer plates. Frank looked over in shock too.

 _‘Damn,_ Mikey! You’re awake……what-what happened _dude?’_ In a moment, Gerard was beside his brother, trying to make sure he was alright. But Mikey just stared at his brother, he really couldn’t speak anymore—his throat was too dry. Understanding, Frank passed him a bottle of water.

‘Gerard…’ Mikey began speaking, now aptly hydrated. ‘They got him— got Ray.’ Gerard didn’t reply but just stared at his brother, astonished. ‘Ray— murdered in Princerow, and….’

 _‘What?’_ Frank gasped in disbelief. He tightly gripped the chair in front of him, face flushed and eyes wide.

‘I think…I could have saved him.’ 

***

The killer now sat wide awake on the couch, staring at the clock on the opposite wall.

_3:45 am. Sleep was never an option._

Sighing, she pulled on her choker—a prolonged habit. _Ugh, damn that Adam’s apple._ Suddenly, the telephone started ringing. Sighing, she picked the receiver.

‘Hello?’

 _‘I hope the job’s done.’_ She suddenly stiffened at the voice. Of course, he was calling her. 

‘Yes, an hour ago almost. You know I’ll do the job, Wentz.’ She could hear him chuckle at the other end.

‘Ah, sure, you do it well. I believe you got what you need?’ She relaxed a bit, now slightly nodding to herself before replying in the affirmative.

‘Really, I’m hoping it’s something good—‘ _It is. Surely it is._ ‘—or else _he_ would be disappointed. I guess I’ll end this here.’ With a click, the call abruptly got ended at the other end.

She set down the receiver as silence ensued in the house again. Her eyes traveled to the coffee table, where she had placed everything that she could find from Toro today. A great many papers—all very valid. And on top of all sat a little grey box, slightly bloodstained at a corner. The most interesting find. The killer slightly smirked.

_Of course, he would love it._

***

Frank blankly stared at Mikey, unable to fathom what he just said. Gerard kept silent.

‘Ray— why?’ Frank stuttered out.

Sighing, Mikey looked down and stared at the shabby carpet that stretched out on the floor with his lips pursed. He contemplated what he should say next.

‘Get to Princerow and get our friend. I-I…. can’t explain.’

But Gerard decided that his brother wasn’t done speaking yet. ‘You were out of town for months, Mikey. _Months!’_ Exasperated, he continued. ‘And the first time I see you, you’re almost dying in the middle of the street with blood everywhere. You have answers to give.’ 

Mikey lay there, looking dejected. Yes, he had been out of town for months now. And popping out from nowhere covered in blood didn’t explain much too.

‘Please, just get Ray,’ that was all he could say.

***

Frank could feel the town tear past him as he speeded down the main streets on his motorbike at half past four in the morning. Thoughts clouded his mind. He had already helped himself to a drink back at Gerard’s but that had done nothing to ease his anxiety. He could only imagine what awaited him at Princerow.

_Ray is dead._

He couldn’t come to terms with that fact. Sure, being in this business meant being prepared for loses. But still, he couldn’t help but let a deep sense of loss engulf him. Soon, Frank could see the unusually dark and looming figure of Princerow Halls, as it towered over the nearby buildings with a foreboding aura.

_Strange, the Halls are never this dark._

But there was something else. Flashing blue and red lights flooded the entrance and he could hear the harsh police sirens. Gerard gestured and Frank swerved left into an alley. Soon, they came to a halt. Without exchanging any words, they got off and strode towards the building. But with every step he took towards the Halls, Frank felt uneasy— the entire night somehow felt dreamlike. Just hours ago he was laying in his bed, content with the fact that he was finally getting a good night’s sleep. Now here he was, walking towards Princerow where one of his best friends lay allegedly dead. They proceeded to the main entrance, ignoring the police cars. The doorway was barricaded.

Within seconds, Frank noticed a figure approaching them. The man was stocky and his attire said that he was a cop. He approached them with an uneasiness and motioned them to enter.

‘This…uh, how may I help you?’ he asked as Frank and Gerard crossed the low barricade. Frank began speaking.

‘The body….’

‘Yes we identified as—‘ Gerard cut him off.

‘We know.’ He shot a warning look to the officer who silently moved aside. They moved into the halls. Frank noticed even more barricades at the end of the hall, hiding a large portion. This was probably the first time in a while that he and Gerard were visiting a crime scene rather than fleeing from it. It felt odd.

Frank reached the barricades and slid underneath them.

***

About four miles away, in a small and dingy apartment, the sulking figure of Pete Wentz stood over a small basin, gingerly dabbing on a cut on his arm with some cotton. Tonight was a long night and it was still not over. _Things would never be the same again._ And he knew that, he knew that so well. It had been a while since he had been given a special job, like this. He recounted, with almost a school girl-ish excitement the night when _he_ contacted him. Called him to tell him that _he_ had a plan. _He_ praised him, told him that trust was something unsurprisingly uncommon in his ranks. But still _he_ trusted him.

_The Leader._

It enthralled Pete how he would just call himself ‘The Leader.’ Nothing too fancy, just _The Leader._ And really, that defined him—the numero uno of the gang. Pete could pull out a hundered different words to describe him— _mastermind, genius, prime mover, motivator_ and so much more, yet _‘The Leader’_ summed up up this human into three syllables.

Drying his wound, he now slowly rolled down his sleeve and proceeded to get his cellphone. He noticed a message up on the top.

_The wheels are in motion. Keep on with the task._

_—The Leader_


End file.
